


ash'an

by MageOfCole



Series: Cole Does Codywan Week 2020 [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, CC-2224 | Cody Needs a Hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Cody is on Kadavo, Codywan Week 2020, Episode: s04e13 Escape From Kadavo, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mando'a, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Role Reversal, Slavery, Zygerria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25615126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageOfCole/pseuds/MageOfCole
Summary: (someone else)It’s fine, Cody can handle it - but it’s not himself that Cody’s worried for, because it’s not him that the slavers have focused on. No, Cody worries for his General, because the Zyggerrians are looking to break him, and Cody knows that they’re already discovering all the ways to do that.Day 3 - Role Swap
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Cole Does Codywan Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855669
Comments: 20
Kudos: 255





	ash'an

“I’m sorry.”

Laying on a cold, hard bunk, body aching and nerves fried, Cody blinks, “It’s not your fault General.” Captured and enslaved, Cody had never been more grateful before for a broken wrist and a training accident, because if it weren’t for that, then it would be Rex in this situation - collared and beaten black and blue, and Cody would never want that for his younger brother. It’s fine, Cody can handle it - he’s had worse, he’s survived worse in Priest’s training than whatever the Zygerrian slavers could do to him. But it’s not himself that Cody’s worried for - because it’s not him that the slavers have focused on. No, Cody worries for his General, because the Zyggerrians are looking to break him, and Cody knows that they’re already discovering all the ways to do that.

By hurting others.

They had just so happened to focus on Cody this time, and he’s glad for that, because the guards had been eyeing up a thin youngling that reminded him painfully of Commander Tano before Cody had drawn their attention away from the orange-skinned Togruta teenager. His back still aches from the whips, and his hands won’t stop shaking with the amount of electricity that had been forced through his body, but Cody’s glad that the youngling would survive another day longer at least, because it means she’s one day closer to rescue.

He had seen his General’s face when Cody had picked himself up off the ground. He had seen the agony in the man’s blue eyes, and as much as Cody had wanted to move to him, to hold him and assure him that he’d be fine, that he’d recover, he couldn’t, because the guards were watching. Neither of them can show that the other is their weakness, because the Zyggerians would smell the blood in the water and leap on the opportunity to break them. He misses home - he misses the bustling halls of the Negotiator, he misses his brothers, and he misses having the freedom to hold and comfort his General.

“You don’t deserve this.” His General says mournfully, his voice hushed, and Cody shifts, wincing slightly at the pull on the skin of his back as he rolls over to face his Jedi. The second night in the facility had led to a discovery that there were rarely enough bunks for everyone, and it tended to be first come first serve, otherwise the slaves had to find a place on the unforgiving ground. Cody had refused to hear of his Jedi taking the floor when the Commander had managed to snag a top bunk, and Obi-Wan had refused the opposite, so instead Cody had simply pulled the smaller man onto the bunk with him and they had continued to do so since then.

It’s… comforting, having this chance to be near his Jedi.

“Neither do you.” Cody murmurs back, reaching out gently to run bruised, blistered fingers along his Jedi’s sharp cheekbone, much more noticeable than usual from gauntness, and Cody knows he probably looks the same. The slavers obviously hadn’t taken the heightened metabolism of a clone trooper into consideration when handing out daily rations to their victims, and no matter how much Cody tries to argue, his Jedi always insists on giving a part of his own away - if Cody refuses, Obi-Wan gives it to one of the Kiros colonists instead, but as the days continue to pass, Cody stops arguing over it. His General is right, they need the energy, and Cody is no use to him if he starves.

His Jedi looks exhausted, skin ashen and pale, the shadows under his eyes dark and his eyes themselves are miserable and blank, but a little bit of a fire ignites once more as he leans into Cody’s soft touch, and he sighs, turning his head and kissing the Commander’s palm. “What a mess.”

Cody’s lips twitch into a faint smirk, then gently brushes away the dirt that had been transferred from his hand to his Jedi’s lips. They’re close enough that their breath mingles, and while it had been unpleasant at first, being unable to properly care for themselves as they are in their current situation, he’s gotten used to the smell of unwashed human male, and he takes comfort from it instead, because it’s not the smell of blood and ozone. On Kadavo, the smell of cleanliness means danger, because only the slavers bathe.

Slowly, Cody leans forward, pressing his lips to Obi-Wan’s - a sweet, short thing meant to reassure the other man that he’s here, and that they’re together; because when they’re together, they can get themselves out of anything, they’ve made it through hell together, and they’ll make it through this as well.

There’s a shift, and Obi-Wan is moving closer to him, arm going over his hip and gripping the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline, and Cody doesn’t flinch as he feels his partner’s presence in his mind like a gentle breeze, carefully muting any pain he feels, and Cody sends back a silent feeling of gratefulness.

“ _Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum_.” Cody says honestly against the man’s lips, and Obi-Wan chuckles faintly. “ _Hukaat'kama_?”

Eyes serious, Obi-Wan gently takes his face in his free hand, scanning every mark and pore and freckle that makes him unique among the Vode, minor differences that no one would see unless they were looking for them but ones that his _cyare_ could find with his eyes closed. “ _Always_.” He breathes, “As long as you’ll have me, my dear.”

Cody kisses him again, this time a little deeper and a little longer, but they can’t have much more without risking drawing attention to themselves. “ _K'oyacyi_.” His voice is thick when he gives his General this order, and while Cody knows that the man noticed, he doesn’t make a mention of it, instead he just kisses the clone’s forehead, right over his scar, unkempt beard tickling the twisted skin there.

They can’t promise each other that, they can’t promise survival, because War always has its victims and life is rarely ever fair, but they’ll _try_. Someone will come for them, Cody knows this - they’ll come, because this is where the colonists are, but they won’t be coming because of Cody or Obi-Wan. They’re expendable, Cody more so than his General, but he’s seen the way the Senate sees the Jedi as nothing more than fancy weapons to throw at the enemy - they may be fancier canon fodder than the Vode, but they’re canon fodder nonetheless.

The colonists will be rescued, and Cody and Obi-Wan just have to survive long enough to see that happen.

**Author's Note:**

> Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I love you  
> Hukaat'kama - Watch my back  
> cyare - beloved  
> K'oyacyi - (usage:)Stay alive


End file.
